Deviation of Fate
by CrossedQuills
Summary: (alternate Episode Ignis ending timeline) After the temporary defeat of Ardyn at Zegnautus Keep our three remaining heroes tuck Noctis and the crystal away and try their best to maintain order and keep themselves busy until he returns. But ten years is a long time... and unexpected things are bound to happen. OT3, OT4, Gladio/Prompto, Gladio/Ignis, Ignis/Prompto, all the pairings
1. Chapter 1

DEVIATION OF FATE

CHAPTER 1

Three figures walked down the main thoroughfare of the once bustling city of Insomnia. Where there was once a theatre, a florist, bank, school, department store, funeral home, park, and café was now only a pile of rubble and glass. A Niflheim air carrier splayed out atop it like a sleeping cat, paying the figures no mind as they passed silently.

The months of various weather had washed away the layer of dust and blood that once coated the streets, but it did not take away the smell. Death was the only resident of Insomnia now except for the daemons that prowled in the darkest hours of the night. The enormous walls that once protected the city still functioned as a physical barrier to the larger daemons for now, but they knew it wouldn't last long. The crystal was no longer within its borders, offering protection to its citizens.

No.

Currently it functioned only as an incubator and a prison for their Chosen King. Appropriately moved to Anglegard for safety while Noctis slept and gathered strength. Despite its absence, some believed that it left a lingering touch in the air around the Citadel, its home for hundreds of years, like fallout from a nuclear blast. It kept the worst of the daemons out, but for how much longer no one could say.

Which was why the three members of the Chosen King's Crownsguard currently stood at the base of the steps to the Citadel in the lingering sunlight of early morning. If the reports they'd read in Altissia were true, their late king was still in there among the dead along with his shield. While there were thousands if not millions of bodies within the walls of the city that needed a proper burial, at the moment there were only two that they were here for.

It was the least they could do.

Prompto looked over at Ignis and Gladio, who had remained silent since they entered the city. Ever since Altissia, Ignis had changed in a way Prompto couldn't exactly put a finger on, but the best word he could think of would be 'haunted'. Like a historic mansion that you know hid something dark and ethereal beneath the surface.

Gladio had gone more stoic than usual once they'd begun talking about coming back. Prompto never vocalized it, but he suspected it had everything to do with the Lord Shield. Gladio never did grieve for the loss of his father, king, and Insomnia. None of them had. There hadn't been time since that morning in Galdin Quay. He'd seen a chink in Gladio's armor when they'd discovered Ignis' ashen body near the crystal at Zegnautus Keep. Gladio's voice had cracked in despair when he thought Ignis was moments from death thanks to the ring, but the mask went right back up after Noctis used the crystals magic to heal Ignis and it hadn't come down since.

Prompto suspected he'd changed too since The Keep. He'd seen some things…learned things… that he'd suspected were true for a long time, but they'd been rushing to find Ignis with Ravus leading them and he hadn't the time to look over every test tube and lab file they found. The whole place made his skin crawl, but there were pieces of the puzzle he needed to find.

Now, however, there were other tasks at hand.

"Where to first?" he asked once they entered the expansive foyer. Shockingly it seemed largely undamaged.

"According to what Luna told First Secretary Claustra, they fled from the Great Hall, down a hidden elevator through the crypts. If we follow that path we'll likely find…" he paused and cleared his throat. "Let's go."

Logically, it made sense to go to the crypts first, since that's where they intended to bury the king and shield anyway. The ancient marble stairs through the back of the shrine to the Six was still blessedly intact, though the halls were pitch black. Turning on the lights on their chests they descended into further darkness.

"You think there might be daemons down here?" Prompto asked.

"It's possible," said Ignis. "Be vigilant."

The main oculus of the room was covered in rubble. The elevator to one side had been crushed down by an enormous force and several of the pillars were badly damaged from blasts' and impacts.

At the rooms center, was the body of Regis Lucis Caelum. Ignis and Gladio reflexively put their hands over their chest and bowed, Prompto followed suit an instant later.

"There should be vacant crypts along the south passage." Ignis gestured to one side of the circular room. "They won't be adorned as they should be, but it will have to do for the time being. Gladio, could you-"

The shield was already tearing down one of the tapestries from the far wall. It was made of black velvet and had the royal crest embroidered with silver threads and would make do for the shroud of the king for now.

Gently they moved Regis's body atop the fabric and positioned him as best they could in a dignified pose before cocooning him in the dark tapestry. He weighed very little as they carried him to the tomb they'd designated as his, right next to his father and wife, the late King Mors and Queen Auela.

Half their task completed they made their way up the long spiraling staircase of the south wing to the Great Hall where the failed treaty signing took place an eternity ago. The massive doors lay in shambles, blasted open from the outside. Bodies of a half dozen Crownsguardsmen were strewn about the floor in a wide arc. Most of which looked like their chests were cleaved open by an enormous blade. The three of them knew that one day, this could be their fate as well as members of the Crownsguard.

 _There but for the grace of the Six go we._

They searched among the bodies, but couldn't find Clarus. It wasn't until the sun shone off something metallic did Prompto look up at the source and gasp. The other two followed his gaze upward to the balcony where the Lord Shield hung dead, impaled on his own sword through his back.

Prompto and Ignis turned toward Gladio, unsure what to say. What _could_ you say? The young shield, expressionless as the corpses around him, only made his way up the narrow stairs along the wall up to the balcony with the other two in tow. Together they held Clarus' body steady while Gladio used a smashed section of pillar to bang the sword out of the railing. Once it was freed it clattered to the floor of the Great Hall, echoing from every wall as they pulled Clarus' body up and over the ledge. Lying him down on the black tablecloth they retrieved from the main podium, they swaddled him up as they did with the king. Gladio picked his father up in his arms, and began walking toward the stairwell.

He only paused a moment and said over his shoulder, "Grab his sword."

Ignis got it, holding it with reverence as they descended back to the crypts.

Strictly speaking the Lord Shield wasn't supposed to be entombed alongside their king -There was another section of the crypts for their honor- But when Gladio made his way into the crypt of the kings, placed Clarus in the tomb next to Regis along with his sword and pushed the lid closed himself, neither of the other two dared utter a word.

They lined the lids of the tombs with the black and silver candles that they found in a box near the stairs and lit them, each taking a long moment for their fallen King, Lord Shield, and all the other citizens of Insomnia who lay dead amongst the rubble.

When they finally left the crypts, closing the heavy door behind them Ignis' phone began to chirp in earnest. He checked it briefly before returning it to his pocket. "We have an hour of daylight left. We should find shelter soon."

"You think any of the apartments upstairs are damaged?" Prompto asked.

Ignis shook his head. "I can't be sure, but most of the doors were outfitted with electronic locks a few years ago. Even if they have backup batteries, it's been months since the grid went down. Besides, I lost my keycard some time ago."

"Same here," Gladio offered, his voice tight.

There was a pause before Prompto said, "Well… It's not fancy, but my parents' house is about twenty minutes from here and I've got a key hidden under a brick in the garden." A sad thought occurred to him. "If it's not demolished, that is."

"That should do. Thank you, Prompto," said Ignis. "Let's make haste. We can come back tomorrow and attend to the rest of the Crownsguard upstairs before heading back to Lestallum. They deserve that much."

Roughly a half hour later they managed to make it to Prompto's house. They had to take a few detours due to blocked roads. With all the damage they passed en route they were surprised to find Prompto's home largely undamaged.

Finding the hidden key, Prompto opened the door and let them in. "I'm home," he called out by habit, knowing nobody would answer. His parents were never home before Insomnia was in shambles, so why would they be home now?

Kicking off his shoes he made his way into the kitchen and opened up the pantry, producing a case of bottled water and dropping it on the counter before going back to see what else was left. "Are you guys hungry? It's not Iggy's cooking, but we've got plenty of canned foods, granola, rice, beans, and… _Helloooo_." He reemerged with a fancy looking amber bottle in his hand. "Some eighteen-year-old Leide whisky. She's finally legal, gentlemen." He said kissing the bottle and wiggling his eyebrows.

While Ignis' lips did turn up ever so slightly at Prompto's attempt to break the tension, Gladio just nodded and mumbled that he would have some.

Deflating somewhat at his joke falling on deaf ears, he produced three glasses and poured an inch into each of them, sliding them over to his counterparts on the other end of the breakfast bar. Prompto held his glass up, but faltered. He was never good at toasts.

"To Noctis," Ignis said quietly before his phone chimed again, indicating that the sun had set. "To our late King, and to his Lord Shield. May we walk tall for all of them."

They clinked their glasses together and sipped, but Gladio tipped his head back and downed the contents of the glass before picking up the bottle and filling the small glass nearly to the brim. He took his glass and silently retired back to the living room, where he sat down and stared at nothing.

The gunslinger and adviser looked at one another concerned for a moment before Prompto tilted his head toward the shield. "You keep an eye on the big guy. I'll heat up some canned food. I can't mess that up."

Ignis just nodded and followed Gladio into the other room, leaving Prompto to fight with the gas stove and get enough canned daggerquil curry chowder heated up for the three of them. He put on some bagged rice too before returning to the pantry to browse the contents. He'd moved out two years ago, but his parents always kept a very respectable larder.

Taking a mental inventory of what he could take with them he put aside a jar of coconut oil, a few bags of lentils, rice, and… "Oh, hey Gladio. I found a few Cup Noodles. Anak flavored. I don't see an expiration date, but I don't think these things ever go bad. You want me to pack some up for the road?"

There was a long, awkward pause, to the point where Prompto was vaguely deciding why he was even trying when Gladio actually spoke. "Yeah, pack them up. It can't hurt." Prompto put them aside as well before double checking the food on the stove and reducing the heat.

He found one of his mothers many scented candles in the nearby bathroom and lit it before picking up his liquor and joining the others in the living room.

Surprisingly, Gladio kept talking. "Dad would always take me camping when I was a kid, just before Iris was born. Mom would come too sometimes. He would only pack Cup Noodles for food and would tell me," his voice shifted deeper and more serious. _"'If you want to eat anything other than this freeze-dried garbage you'd better learn what's edible out here.'_ And then he would send me off to the river or field near the haven to find what we were going to have for dinner." A sad smile tugged at his lips as he finished his glass.

Prompto's eyes went a little wide. Gladio was a big guy, but that was a lot of alcohol and they hadn't eaten since morning.

Gladio continued, "I gotta be honest. I absolutely hated that shit. It was so bad. And if I came back empty handed he would make me eat it without water in it." Even Ignis made a disgusted face at that. "But I'll never forget… I'll never forget the first time I came back with some wild peppers, garlic, and a fat trout I'd caught. I'd slipped and fallen into the river and tore my shin open. I was filthy and bloody and I'd lost my fishing rod, but I'd never seen him happier."

Even in the dim light they could see the tears start to stream freely down Gladio's cheeks and his shoulders trembling with the inevitable catharsis to come. It started slowly, then gathered momentum like an avalanche, wiping out all the barriers Gladio had built up over years in it's wake.

Neither Ignis nor Prompto remained silent, letting the sobs and the slight hiss of the food cooking on the stove be the only noise in the room for quite some time. Eventually Prompto got up, turned off the heat, and returned with a bottle of water, a box of tissues, and what was left of the whisky.

They sat there and ate quietly while they let last living Lord Shield vent until there was nothing left inside him or the bottle of liquor.

What felt like hours later, Prompto threw an afghan over Gladio's sleeping form as he sprawled across the couch, snoring, and slowly pried the empty glass of whisky out of his fingers. "He needed that."

"More than air," added Ignis with a mild slur. Prompto had only had the equivalent of a few shots, and Gladio had put most of the alcohol away, but Ignis had imbibed more than Prompto would have expected of the advisor. Perhaps they all needed to let loose a bit. While they still could.

Flopping down on the loveseat next to Ignis felt a bit close quarters once he was sitting, but Ignis didn't say anything about it, so Prompto didn't care either. They'd been closer before in the tent many a night.

Prompto sighed, what remained of the liquor in his system was burning off quicker than it could get him truly drunk, as it usually did. For whatever reason his metabolism couldn't keep him from being fat as a kid, but it just loved putting his liver into overdrive once alcohol touched his lips.

Idly running his fingers over the leather straps hiding the barcode on his wrist he wondered if the two were connected. What he saw briefly in the Keep indicated as much. "Hey, Iggy?" he asked before he could stop himself.

Ignis lifted his head up from the back of the couch, as if he'd been dozing. "Yes?"

"Did you… While you were in the Keep… Did you see anything strange?"

Ignis paused, swallowing before he responded. "I saw a great many strange things that day. Could you be more specific."

"In the lab… Did you happen to see anything that looked like me?"

"Ah…that." He leaned forward. "Prompto…I saw some things, but I'm not entirely sure I saw them. If that makes any sense at all."

"It doesn't, but go on."

"Because of the things I saw… I feel that you were intended to be the one taken to the Keep, not me. Noctis pushed you off a train. He thought you were Ardyn, but you weren't. I don't know what happened to you there, but you learned a lot about yourself despite the pain and anguish."

Prompto's brow furrowed. None of this was making sense. How much had Ignis had to drink?

"I know I'm rambling a bit, but I only have it in pieces. Something happened at the alter in Accordo and… I still feel like I'm about to wake up from a dream. It was all so real."

"Oooookay Iggy," Prompto slid the remainder of Ignis' drink away from him with one finger. He wasn't going to get any answers tonight. "I'm going to get you some water."

Before he walked away, Ignis reached out and got a grip of his wrist. "Prompto. I know I'm not making sense, but just so you know that this _thing_ -" he ran his thumb under his leather wrist strap, directly over the barcode, and Prompto felt like someone had dunked him in an icy river. "-does not dictate who you are… _What_ you are. Nothing will ever change that."

Pulling his hand away, Prompto stared at Ignis as if he'd spoken a different language. What he was saying wasn't making a lick of sense… And yet…

"Apologies," Ignis said, leaning back on the couch. "It does seem that I've had too much to drink. I'll still take that water if you're getting it."

Prompto swallowed. "Kay. Be back in a jiffy." He got Ignis some water and excused himself before going upstairs to his old bedroom. Pulling his phone out he dialed a number he never thought he'd need and waited as it rang.

A familiar bug groggy voice answered.

" _Blondie… What on Eos are you calling me this late for?"_

"Aranea, hey. Listen, you said you were from Gralea, right?"

" _Unfortunately. Why?"_

"I have a big favor to ask…"

~X~X~X

Oh boy, this is gonna be a big fic. Strap in.

You'll notice several months will pass between most chapters. I'll be starting off each by stating how much time has passed since Noctis went into the crystal. I plan on this fic spanning the length of the ten years of A World of Ruin. In the original timeline, Talcott says that these three boys drifted apart and didn't spend much time together, but in the Alternate ending from Episode Ignis, all three of them greeted Noctis when he returned already in full uniform, and when they went to the Citadel they did so together. This fic will explain why.

It's going to be full of feels, hurt, comfort, sex, violence, death, bad coping mechanisms, questionable life choices, and more. Not all chapters will be rated Explicit, but I'll try and warn you when they are.

Like when I wrote Shed Some Light On Things a year ago, I would love to hear your input as to what you want to happen during this time period. I already have an outline typed up, but it's flexible. So let me know what you want.


	2. Chapter 2

DEVIATION OF FATE

CHAPTER 2

~1.5 Years~

The battered old truck slowed to a halt outside the Lestallum security gate (a makeshift pully system with several junk cars in place as a portcullis) an instant before Gladio slid out and took up a fighting stance. Sword already in hand he scanned the edge of the liminal space between artificial light and darkness along the cobbled streets. They'd managed to dodge a red giant on the way back from Meldacio Hunter HQ, but once they got to the narrow winding road approaching the city there was little room for maneuvering once something saw them.

Even now, while the others unloaded the payload of supplies, Gladio could hear the cackling whoops and laughter of the mutated havocfangs that considered the outskirts of the city their territory. The mutant animals were almost worse than the daemons. They weren't quite as strong, but they hadn't the aversion to UV lights the way the daemons did.

"We got everything," called one of the other hunters behind him. "Get in here, Amicitia."

Backing into the alleyway with his sight still fixed on the edge of the darkness, he saw the shine of several pairs of eyes move just before the security door banged shut.

Banishing his sword into the armiger, Gladio finally let out a relieved sigh and stretched. Riding in the bed of the truck while maintaining hyper vigilance for the last few hours was exhausting to say the least. But now that the sun had gone down for the last time and the world was plunged into constant darkness, it was the only way to stay alive.

"Need anything else from me?" Gladio asked the driver.

He shook his head. "Nah, we're good for right now. We'll be heading back tomorrow around 1900 if you need a lift back to HQ."

"I'll let you know before mid-day tomorrow. Thanks, Tim." Gladio waved him and the other hunters goodbye before making his way down the narrow passages of the city. He tried his best not to make eye contact with the absolute swarm of vagrants and refugees that choked every nook and underpass along his path. Not that he didn't have the gil to give them, he did, but if he gave a coin to one person the rest would descend upon him like pigeons on breadcrumbs and he just didn't have the energy for that.

He always donated whatever extra meat he hunted to the shelters, so that curtailed his guilt somewhat.

He rounded another corner and unlocked the bolted door to his apartment building. Thank the Six Ignis had the foresight to land them an apartment early on before it began to really get dark and refugees began piling into the city. It was only a one bed one bath loft, but it had enough space for two oversized futons to cram into the living room for when Gladio or Prompto needed a place to hang their hats. Ignis claimed the bedroom without argument from the other two. He'd found the place after all and he was in Lestallum more than either of them anyway, so it only made sense he got the luxury of the actual bed.

"Hullo hullo…" Gladio called once he was in the door. No response.

Ignis was probably out doing whatever he did with the Lestallum government. He'd also been working with Doctor Sania with the collection of items for her research into different remedies. He was fuzzy on the details of that too, but it seemed to keep the advisor busy enough. Ignis was never one to give himself much downtime.

Taking a quick shower and changing his clothes to something a bit less armored, he headed back out to get a desperately needed meal.

Making his way to his favorite Lestallum pub, The Harp, he gave the bouncer a light punch on the shoulder as he made his way past him without needing to show an ID. The place was pretty well packed for the late lunch rush. His stomach grumbled at the smell of cooking food as he made his way up to the bar and found a vacant stool. It wasn't until he sat down did he realize he recognized the person sitting next to him. "Libertus?"

The older man turned toward Gladio, took an instant to recognize him, and stood up so fast he nearly knocked his barstool over. "Gladio!" Suddenly he's wrapped in a bear hug so tight that he's briefly reminded of the last time he'd fought a midgardsormr. "I haven't seen you since Crownsguard training. What…two years ago?"

He wheezes, "Nice to see you too, Lib." Libertus put him down. "How's things?"

The glaive shrugged. "As well as it can be I suppose. We've been doing a half decent job gathering shards and we've almost got the grid up all the way to Wiz's Ranch.

Gladio nodded and ordered an ale and medium rare burger from the passing bartender. "Yeah, we went out that way before things went dark. Vyv, paid us a good chunk of gil to explore the Tomb of the Tall and Costlemark. Prompto offered to take the pictures for him, but he insisted on experiencing it himself."

Libertus' eyebrows rose. "You managed to get _Vyv_ …the photographer guy, through Costlemark? How did you pull that off? That guy gets winded standing still."

Shrugging, Gladio sipped his beer. "Hey, he can move when he needs to. He got some really amazing shots too, and we even found some loot we'd missed first time through. So, it was a win win."

"That's good. I've been seeing Ignis around a lot lately. Busy guy."

"That's Ignis. He doesn't know what to do with himself if he has free time."

Libertus finished off his beer and ordered another for each of them. "And you? What have you been up to lately other than escorting photographers around?"

"Been doing hunts a little way out east for Hunter HQ. There haven't been as many daemons as we expected, but there's been an influx of mutants."

Libertus nodded with a slightly bitter look on his face. "Yeah… You notice more and more bounties are for humans too?"

"Unfortunately. I don't like taking them, but some people are more monstrous than the daemons out there. You hear about the old man out near Old Lestallum?"

"The one trafficking kids?"

"That's the one. Rumor has it he didn't live long enough for the marshals to get there. I hear the townsfolk along with the hunter who found him tied him up to a tree out in the wilds and left him there for the local fauna." The bartender brought him his food. "Thanks."

The topic at hand didn't curtail his appetite as much as it should. Discussions like these were getting more common by the day. There was that shooting at the Lestallum club last week where four people died, the caravan that broke down in the heart of killer wasp country, that brothel that burned down near the Cauthess Rest Area... He shoved another handful of fries in his mouth while Libertus spoke.

"I did hear that." He shrugged sadly. "But what do you expect now that most of the prisons are closed. I hear word that marshals are going to start going medieval with punishments soon."

Gladio swallowed a mouthful of burger. "You mean like hangings?"

Libertus shook his head. "Not that extreme yet. Unless you deserve it, I guess. But I hear whispers of cutting off fingers for theft and stuff like that."

"Well… What can you do? It's getting wild out there." Gladio finished his beer and declined when Libertus offered to buy him another. "By the way, stay away from the area around Kellebram Haven."

"More bandits?"

Gladio shook his head, idly considering ordering a shot or three from the images that started to flood his head. There had been so much blood and no bodies. "Just trust me on this one."

There was a pregnant silence between the two while Gladio forced the rest of the burger past the sudden bitter taste in his mouth. Thankfully Libertus decided to change the subject. "So… I saw Prompto last week."

That perked Gladio up. "Oh yeah? Where?"

"Here in Lestallum. We had a few of our younger Glaives looking to spar with some of the ' _legendary Crownsguard'_ " he said with a hint of humor. "You remember sparring with a few of them if I recall. Alexus took quite the shine to you." Libertus winked.

Gladio shrugged humbly and wiped the last of the ketchup off his plate with the pickle. "I took a shine to her too. It's not often I meet a lady that attractive who can beat me in a fight." They'd done more than spar that night up at their apartment too, but Gladio was never one to kiss and tell.

"Other than Aranea of course," Libertus added with a knowing smirk.

Gladio scoffed, remembering his embarrassing defeat at the hands of the dragoon the last time they sparred. What was it, two months ago? "Yeah well you try dodging a spear coming at you at that height."

Holding his hands up defensively, Libertus chuckled. "Oh, I'm not knocking you. She's got bigger fangs than a behemoth…" Libertus glanced over his shoulder cautiously just in case she was in the room. "She does look like she was poured into that outfit though. I'd ask her out, but I think she might break me."

"You might be right." Gladio put a few gil down and slid his stool away from the bar. He patted the Glaive warmly on the shoulder. "Well, I've been up for about forty hours and I'm gonna hit the hay. Keep fighting the good fight, Lib. Thanks for the beer."

Libertus patted him back. "For hearth and home?"

"For hearth and home."

A few minutes later, Gladio was walking back up the long stairs toward the apartment. He entered the room quietly out of habit and kicked his boots off before stripping himself down to his boxers and flopping down onto his futon. He barely had the energy to pull his blanket and pillow out from beneath the lumpy mattress and make himself comfortable before he was well on his way to a much-needed slumber.

He didn't really dream, he rarely did, but he was swept with the intermittent vision of the inside of his dining room back in the Amicitia Manor , half a lifetime ago. He was eating a bowl of cereal with Iris across the table from him as sun streamed in the oversized windows. Jared was occupying himself in the background wordlessly while his father walked by and scolded Gladio for eating something so laden with sugar. Iris idly told her father to 'chill out Dad, he'll burn it off anyway,' before Clarus smiled, mussing her hair. It was a simple dream that was mostly a memory, but it left the young Lord Shield with a deep sense of saudade that lingered with him deeply well through the rest of the night.

The sound of a door opening snapped Gladio's eyes open. He'd always been a light sleeper, even before his days training to be shield. Light from the only bedroom flooded their small kitchenette with a warm orange glow as Ignis stepped out in just his sleep pants. His hair was mussed, sticking up every which way. Gladio had never seen Ignis like that before. His face calm and blissful, a tired swagger to his step, and his shoulders didn't seem as tight as they usually were.

He turned the kettle on and pulled out a mug, showing no indication that he knew the shield was there.

A second pair of footsteps drew Gladio's attention back to the bedroom.

Prompto here too? He'd never known Ignis to keep company.

A dark-haired man, somewhere in his early twenties, and a few inches shorter than Ignis, walked out of the bedroom, buttoning up his jeans as he did. Gladio's eyes adjusted as the man walked up to Ignis and wrapped his arms around him sensually, kissing the back of the strategist's exposed spine as he did. "Will you be home tonight?" he asked.

"Most likely," Ignis replied warmly. "Will you be joining me?"

"Maybe. We have a run to Old Lestallum to pick up some car parts, but we should be back before long."

"Call me when you return?" It sounded more like a question than a request.

The man kissed Ignis' shoulder and gave him a light smack on his ass. Gladio raised an eyebrow and stifled a chuckle. "Keep the bed warm for me."

"Of course."

Grabbing his shoes, the dark-haired man waved at Ignis casually before opening the door and descending down the stairs to the street below.

Gladio waited for the sound of footsteps to fade away before he cleared his throat, announcing his presence.

Ignis turned toward him and in a flash of light his daggers were in his hands. Sense of peace gone, Ignis the Crownsguard member was standing in their kitchen again.

"Iggy, it's me. Put those things away."

Ignis resumed his non-battle stance and banished his blades, but a lingering sense of guilt lingered on his face. "Apologies. I… When did you get back?"

"Midafternoon yesterday." Gladio shrugged from the futon. He was still groggy and had every intention to go back to bed, but not before a little humor on Ignis expense. "Sorry to eaves drop on your _friends_ visit." Gladio briefly considered the man's stature, hair, and build. It reminded him of someone. Someone princely.

Even in the darkness, the blush on Ignis' face was apparent. "Yes…well…" The kettle began to whistle. Ignis turned it off and poured himself a cup. "Can I get you any?"

"What time is it?"

"Somewhere around six."

"No thanks. To the tea I mean. I'm gonna try and catch a few more hours."

Ignis almost looked relieved. Gladio assumed he was only making small talk to be polite. The three of them had fallen out of communication as of late. Every time he bumped into Ignis or Prompto it felt like they were falling more and more out of synch with each other. Shit he hadn't even seen Prompto in six months.

"Hey, Iggs…" Gladio said as the other man turned toward the bedroom.

"Yes?"

"You seem happy. I'm glad."

Ignis just smiled, nodded, and closed the door.

~X~X~X~

Okay I know not much has actually happened in this story yet, but just know that I'm working really hard to have character and world development during this fic. There's a lot we don't see or know about what happened during the WOR, especially during the alternate ending. So, I'm peppering in as much canon (what even is that word anymore?) content as I can while still leading up to where I want it. Comrades included.

The next chapter will have some NSFW content. I promise.


	3. Chapter 3-NSFW

DEVIATION OF FATE

CHAPTER 3

~2.5 years~

Pulling his motorcycle into the Coernix Station to refuel, Prompto took the moment to restock up on supplies. The once bustling outpost was on it's last legs. It's batteries and gas-powered generator were failing and despite the addition of a wind turbines a few months back, it wasn't generating as much energy as they needed to keep the lights on.

Prompto gave it another month before everyone had to evacuate. Tops.

Grabbing the last potion off the shelf, a box of ammo, and a few bottles of water, he paid for the gas and went back outside. He checked his phone, not even seeing the disused app of Kings Knight anymore, he noticed that he had a few texts. Upon opening them up he was surprised to see who they were from.

 **Gladio** Hey Chocobo.

 **Gladio** Did you know your phone number is written on the bathroom wall at Longwythe? (picture included)

 **Gladio** I tried wiping it off, but it was in permanent marker. Just wanted you aware of it.

Blue-violet eyes rolled. Gladio hadn't reached out to him in months and _this_ was finally the reason to shoot out a text? Prompto sighed, at least the shield was looking out for him. Maybe he should extend an olive branch too.

 **Prompto** People suck. Where are you at now?

The response came seconds later.

 **Gladio** Heading north from Galdin Quay to Hammerhead. Bringing Takka some leftover stuff from the restaurant.

 **Gladio** You?

Chewing his lip, the blonde debated what to respond. He had some business to take care of in Hammerhead. Having Gladio there might make things complicated. Still, he hadn't seen the guy in the better part of a year and Quay was still a few hours out.

Still, the world was a dangerous place and he would feel guilty if something happened to either of them and they'd missed this chance to say hello.

 **Prompto** I'm actually heading toward Hammerhead too. I'll probably beet you there.

 **Gladio** Good. I'll buy you a beer. We need to catch up. It's been too long.

No texts followed after that, so Prompto put his helmet back on, straddled his bike and continued on to finish his job.

Thankfully Hammerhead was moderately busy that evening. In his line of work it was always awkward when the place was close to empty. It was always more likely for someone to overhear what he said and watch where he went. Busy was confusing. Busy was good.

Parking his bike in the garage and putting a security chain around the back tire he grabbed his bag and made his way up to Cindy's office, located up a scaffolding on the upper level of the garage. He knocked and was glad to find her there, tinkering with a small engine. She lifted her goggles when she saw him. "Evening Sug. You in town for business or pleasure?"

"Maybe both. You mind if I use your bathroom for a few minutes?"

"G'head."

Safely inside the only clean bathroom around for miles, Prompto quickly slid out of his riding jacket and put on a blue plaid shirt, leaving it mostly open at the top. Then he slid into his tight (but thankfully flexible) gray jeans and sneakers. Using a little product he fluffed up the hair style that the helmet had destroyed, brushed his teeth, and for the finishing touch he put on his old, thick rimmed glasses from high school.

He didn't really need them anymore since he got his eyes fixed his senior year, but it completed the look.

Tucking his bag under the sink for safe keeping he exited. "How do I look?" He asked Cindy and struck a pose.

"Like a display in the window of a skater shop," she said with a chuckle. "All you need is a nose ring."

Prompto raised an eyebrow. "Thanks?"

She chuckled again and lowered her goggles. "Bring protection Sug, and don't go makin' a mess like last time."

"I can make no promises," he said before descending down toward Takka's restaurant. Grabbing an out of date auto magazine he ordered some cottage chips and posted up in the corner of the dinner/bar and waited as more patrons began to come in. He scanned the crowd, which was mostly hunters, an out of place family of four (clearly passing through), and a variety of other people brave or ignorant enough to come out this far east.

Lestallum was widely known as the safest area, but there were still a few stubborn people who insisted on staying in their homes until it was too late. Prompto hoped that family had a safe destination. He'd hate to see those kids sleeping in the Lestallum gutters, or worse.

Suddenly Takka appeared at his side with a small side of mustard he hadn't ordered. Looking up, Prompto met eyes with the owner who whispered, "Last two seats at the bar. Near the storage room," before returning behind the counter.

Trying not to be too obvious, Prompto glanced over the heads of the crowd to the far end of the dinner. Sure enough there were the two guys he was looking for. One was enormous, barrel chested, with a bushy beard and a garula embroidered on his jacket. The other was almost as big, but clean shaven. His nose was crooked from being busted years ago, and his gauged ears with the tips of garula tusks in them was the final identifier.

Popping the last of his chips in his mouth he stood up, fixed his glasses on his face, and made his way across the floor.

Pulling into Hammerhead ahead of schedule, Gladio gave Dave a hand moving the last cases of various liquors and canned foods they'd scavenged for Takka from Galdin Quay. It seemed like an easy job at first, but none of them had counted on tonberries being there. Thankfully they'd emerged when they were just about done loading the truck, so they'd all hopped in and sped off before the tiny daemons could close the distance.

Gladio was brave, not stupid.

He got the last case of vodka out of the truck and waved Dave off to do whatever he wanted. Hopefully the haven across the street was available, but if not, Cindy usually let him sleep in the back of one of the junker cars she'd yet to repair. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing and not a luxury she extended to many. Most weren't brave or stupid enough to ask.

Cindy was small, but she wasn't a pushover. The last thief who tried stealing her welding equipment got the business end of the sawed-off shotgun Cindy was known to carry nowadays. She called it 'Jezebel'. When Cid heard about it he'd just laughed and said, "That's my girl!"

Walking through the back door of the dinner Gladio put the case down with the other liquors and made his way toward the main room to get his pay from Takka. A familiar voice made his hand freeze on the doorknob. Was that Prompto?

He listened for a moment before slowly letting go of the doorknob. That couldn't be Prompto. The other two gruff voices with him made his shield instincts prickle. Something wasn't right.

The first of the gruff voices chuckled. "That's a lot of gil for one hour, Blondie. What will you do to make it worth my time?"

The other voice sounded more like gravel. "Yeah. I mean you're a hot twink and all, but you've got to sweeten the deal a bit. There's other whore's here who'll suck dick for half that price."

The younger voice that sounded like Prompto hummed. "Well, I don't know about you two, but I like to be roughed up a little." He whispered. "When was the last time you guys spit-roasted someone? Or maybe…" one of the guys gave a choking gasp as if he'd been groped. Gladio swallowed past the dry lump in his throat when he heard Prompto laugh. Yup, that was him alright. What was he doing? "Maybe if you stretch me out enough I might be able to get two of you in me. It's been a little while, but if you're willing to give it the old college try, so am I."

Gladio took a step back away from the door and rubbed his hands down his face. He didn't need to be hearing this. Was this what Prompto had been doing for the past two years to earn gil? If he was he wasn't really judging him but… Prompto was better than that.

There was a bang against the storage door that made Gladio jump. There was a moan and the sound of messy kissing coming from the other side.

Then again… maybe there was a reason the blondes phone number was written on a seedy bathroom wall.

"Where are you two staying?" Prompto purred.

One of them cleared their throat and whispered back. "We rented the caravan."

"You better be worth the gil, Blondie." There was the hard slap of a hand on denim.

Prompto gave a coy chuckle. "I'm sure I'll be able to surprise you. Lead the way."

By now Gladio was already slipping back out the back door to the dinner and making a wide arch around to the front of Takka's. Hiding behind a parked box truck he glanced around toward the caravan. Sure enough, it was Prompto. One of the two enormous men flanking him had his arm over the gunslinger's shoulder.

The whole situation smelled bad. Gladio had seen Prompto take out beasts, daemons, and Niff soldiers alike, but this… Humans were different. Humans were worse.

Once the three of them were in the caravan Gladio made his way closer and slipped behind it, away from the sight of the dinner crowd, and listened. There was the murmur of words within, but he couldn't make out what was being said.

There were a few light moans from all parties and briefly Gladio felt guilty for listening in. This really _really_ wasn't any of his business. Maybe he could just go back to the dinner, pretend he never heard anything, order a beer and text Prompto in an hour or so saying he'd arrived.

Yeah, that would work. Prompto didn't need to know Gladio knew. They could catch up, have a few brews, and go their separate ways.

Good plan.

Suddenly the whole caravan banged and gave a violent lurch on its cinder blocks. One of the deep voices yelled a there were sounds of a struggle. By the time shots started ringing out Gladio was already sprinting toward the front of the caravan. The door was locked, but it was cheaply made enough that Gladio gave one good yank and the metal latch broke.

When he entered the space, he expected to see Prompto pinned down or someone with a gunshot wound, but instead he froze at the scene.

Prompto stood shirtless in the middle of the room, gun drawn and breathing hard. One of the two large men was naked except for his boxers with one hand cuffed to the frame of the foldable bed. The other was splayed on the ground, frozen in time, with his hands held up defensively.

The gunslinger turned toward Gladio, sharing an expression of surprise. After a few long seconds he wiped the blood dripping from his nose. Prompto had filled out over the last few years. He was paler (everyone was), but bare arms showed the beginnings of tattoo sleeves. Mostly cartoonish pictures of a chocobo, a cactuar, and the like along with a barcode and a few comic book accents*. Gladio wasn't sure what surprised him more, the scene or the ink.

"You gonna give me a hand or are you just gonna to stand there staring at me?"

This snapped Gladio out of his trance. "Oh. Yeah, sure. What do you need?"

With some extra help from Takka and Dave (who hadn't left the dinner yet) the four of them managed to get the two large men into the garage, where they were handcuffed to a support beam. Cindy sat nearby with Jezebel in her lap, keeping an eye on them until the Marshall got there.

Gladio stood by silently as Prompto used a minor cure spell to fix his bloodied nose and clean up before getting dressed again and reemerging from the bathroom. Without a word of explanation, he walked up to the shield and said, "I believe you mentioned a beer."

To say that the whole scene was tense was an understatement. Thanks to the word that there was a Marshall en route, a lot of the patrons of Takka's departed, leaving just a few legal hunters and the two of them at the bar. Prompto downed half his beer as soon as it hit the polished counter top before Gladio had even touched his. The shield was still trying to figure out what to ask…or rather how to ask what just happened.

Thankfully, Prompto started filling in some of the holes for him unprompted.

"They were chocobo poachers," he said flatly. "People called them the Tusk Brothers." He took another sip of beer and kept his eyes forward. "In case you were curious."

Gladio had seen their flyer back at HQ. He was surprised he hadn't recognized them. "So…you're a bounty hunter now? Is that what you've been up to these past two years?"

"Some of it. Yeah."

"I'm surprised we haven't crossed paths more then. I've been doing hunts and escorts almost constantly. You should have told me, we could have teamed up on a few of them."

Prompto turned toward him, his expression softer. "You'd want to work with me?"

Gladio frowned. "Of course. We've worked together with Noct for years. We know each other's strengths and weaknesses. Six, I might have been able to talk Ignis into coming on more hunts with you around."

"Huh… And here I thought it was because you guys missed me, not team dynamics."

Gladio took a sip of his beer, unsure how to answer that. He and the blonde had never really been _friends_ , but he liked the kid. A lot. "Prompto, what's gotten into you? I've never heard you sound so bitter. Even back in Insomnia you were cracking bad jokes when everyone was miserable, and now I find you dirty talking strange hunters and giving _me_ the cold shoulder. Talk to me."

Sighing heavily, Prompto ran a finger along the rim of the glass, pushing the foam around. "Sorry Gladio… I… It's been rough with Noct gone. Ya know?"

"Course I do."

"You probably don't remember the night at my parent's house after the Citadel. You were hammered. Ignis was pretty drunk too I think, but… Iggy told me some things that nobody should know. He kept rambling on about who I was and _what_ I was and…" he traced a thumb over the barcode on his wrist. Gladio just not noticed that it looked a lot older than the others. "Long story short I haven't drank near enough to tell you everything I learned about where I came from, but I wasn't prepared for it. It…I was rough for a while."

"Is that why you disappeared on us for six months?"

Prompto nodded. "Yeah. Cor ended up finding me and smacking some sense into me. A few months later I outfitted my guns with stopshot and non-lethal bullets and I've been doing human bounties for almost two years now."

"You were always good at ranged hunts like the griffons and wasps. Why only do human hunts?"

He shrugged. "Guess I'm just made for it."

Gladio felt like there was some subtext in that statement, but he couldn't put a finger on it. Instead, he decided to shift the subject a little. "Well, at least you're a good actor. I confess that I overheard what you said to those two before going into the caravan. That's some A+ strategy to get them away from the crowd. Believable too. You almost had me going."

Prompto snorted and cracked a smile. "You heard everything?"

"Pretty much yeah. Where did you learn to act like that?"

The blonde smirked and finished his beer. "Who said it was an act?" He watched as the shields face shifted from humor, to confusion, to a faint blush. It wasn't often Prompto made the larger man flustered. He enjoyed it.

"Ha ha, very funny." Gladio stammered out and finished his beer. He ordered two shots from Takka, who nodded and poured them. Prompto remained silent, even as Gladio slid him the shot. They clinked them together before downing them, both making a grimace as the cheap liquor went down. "You are joking…Right?"

"It does work out well if you really think about it. Not all of us are big guys who can swing around a massive sword, but sometimes that's a good thing. Most of these guys I've been hunting are about as big as you are. Most are capable of murder or worse. If they see a guy like you walk in they get tense. But…" Prompto ran a knuckle up the side of Gladio's arm, lingering over the lines of the tattoo with his thumb.

"Prom?"

He scooted closer, so that their knees touched. His voice dropped in volume and got smoother. "But if they see me walk in wearing snug jeans and a swing in my hip, they do the opposite. They let their guard down. Maybe I'll let them buy me a drink. Sometimes I'll chat with them for a while, but more often than not they don't want to talk much unless its what they want to do with me." Running his hand down his own leg he slid it onto Gladio's light denim and gave a slight squeeze. Surprisingly, the shield didn't flinch away.

"Normally things go the way they did in the caravan. Especially if there's just one of them. I'd get them comfortable enough to get their weapons off along with their pants and by then it's just a matter of restraining them or getting them with a stopshot." He slid off the stool so he was practically standing between Gladio's legs. The shield just gazed at him half lidded, as if he wasn't entirely aware of who he was looking at. His hands gripping the underside of the stool like it was a lifeline. "But some are too smart for that. Sometimes I need to have a dick half way down my throat before they let their guard down enough." His hands slid up both thighs to Gladio's hips and further back. Prompto's leg just barely brushed the bulge forming in Gladio's pants as he leaned in close to the shields lips. "With most though, I don't even have to leave the bar to get them."

The rasping sound of a handcuff closing brought Gladio back out of his trance. Lifting his hand up he found it firmly latched the back of the swivel barstool.

"Gotcha." Prompto smirked and sat back down, taking another shot.

Gladio pulled hard against the backing of the stool, but the professional grade cuffs held. "Okay, Chocobo. You proved your point. Now unlock these."

"No."

Gladio blinked at him. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

Prompto leaned in and spoke very clearly. "Apologize."

"What?"

"Apologize for judging me. You did. Don't deny it." Gladio closed his mouth from where he was about to protest. "And one other thing… but apologize first."

Taking a deep breath, Gladio's anger dissipated. The gunslinger was right after all. He had judged him. "I'm sorry."

"For?"

"I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions and being a judgmental asshole. You're a lot more skilled than I gave you credit for. Happy?"

He nodded his head. "It'll do." He waited for Gladio to continue, enjoying him squirm in the discomfort that he was bested.

Breathing through his nose to contain his temper, Gladio asked, "You said 'one other thing'. What is it?"

"The caravan's available now that the Tusk Brothers are in company. It's all paid for and everything. Crash with me there."

Gladio rose an eyebrow in suspicion. "Is this another part of your game? I'm not a fan of being played."

"No games. Promise." He fiddled with the keys to the cuffs to hide the tightness in his throat. "Don't laugh, but… It's been a long time... a _really_ long time since I've been able to sleep in a room without a knife under my pillow. We may not see eye to eye on a lot of thing, Gladio, but I trust you. That's something I can't say about a lot of people these days."

The shields expression softened and he looked at Prompto with an expression more of understanding than vexation. "Okay. I'll stay."

Prompto undid the lock and tucked the cuffs back into his back pocket. "Well I don't know about you, but I'm ready to hit the hay."

Nodding, Gladio gave him a light smile. "Yeah. Not gonna lie. I'm pretty beat myself. A real bed, even a caravan one, sounds amazing."

Takka passed by and Prompto waved him over again. "In that case I'm gonna have one more shot. Normally I'm not in a secure enough location to get a buzz going, but tonight I'll try and relax. You want one too?"

Rubbing his wrist, Gladio relented. "Fine one more, but that's it."

Three sets of shots and some reminiscing later the two of them found their way to the caravan. Upon entering it for the second time of the evening Prompto took a moment to kick his boots off while Gladio used the small bathroom. He ran his fingers along the smooth surface of the dining table, picturing four plates full of Ignis' stir-fry on it. One plate always had less vegetables than the others. After dinner the four of them would usually play Kings Knight or cards outside if the weather was nice before retiring for the evening.

In the morning Ignis would rise first and make coffee while Gladio did quick morning run. Those moments were nice, when he could just hang out in the tent quietly with Noctis. Normally they wouldn't do more than play a stupid game on their phones or tuck a pillow over their eyes and try to sleep late until one of the others practically dragged them out of bed.

For a moment he could smell those mornings. The product in Noct's hair, Gladio's antiperspirant, and Ignis' aftershave beneath the aroma of breakfast and coffee as the sun rose to the east. It had a smell too somehow. A smell he'd all but forgotten.

He swallowed back the lump in his throat when Gladio stepped out of the bathroom and kicked off his boots too. The shield stretched and grabbed a bottle of water before heading back toward the tail end of the camper where the bed was, pausing only an instant before crawling into it. "Did you want the bed? I can take the fold-out."

Prompto couldn't help but smile. He rubbed his eyes as if he was tired to hide him wiping away the forming tears. "Nah, it's ok. The four of us used to fit in here somehow. I think the two of us can manage without elbowing each other in the ribs for one night."

Nodding, Gladio kicked off his jeans and draped them over the couch before killing the light and lounging across the mattress. Thankfully Cindy had started laying out a clean sheet in between caravan renters. It was out of mercy for the mattress more than hospitality, but Prompto was thankful for it none the less. Reaching into the cabinet over the doorway he found the old wool blanket he stashed there just in case he needed it. The desert nights were known to get chilly after all.

Kicking off his snug jeans he crawled on the bed too, draping the small blanket over himself and whispering a cursory, "G'night, Gladio," and closing his eyes.

"Night, Prom."

Oddly enough, that's what cracked Prompto's tough façade completely. Thankful that he was facing away from the shield, the tears started to flow down his face into the sheet below freely. It occurred to Prompto, in that moment, that nobody had said goodnight to him while lying in bed next to him. Not since before Altissia. Not since Noctis went to the crystal. Not since he'd run off to Zegnautus Keep and found out what he was. Every bed partner he'd had was a mark or fling who'd normally just passed out or gotten dressed and left before she sheets even cooled. With Noctis gone there was nobody left who gave a shit about him. Nobody left who-

A strong tattooed arm wrapped around him as the warm body attached to it joined shortly after. For a moment he suspected Gladio was getting frisky, but when the shield whispered, "It's alright. I miss it too," all tension fled the blondes body.

Tears still flowed, but they weren't accompanied by the tight throated sobs that had threatened seconds before.

What must have been about twenty minutes later, the tears on his cheek dried and his heartrate had returned to a calm pace. The only think that kept him from nodding off was a particularly lumpy spot in the mattress digging into his ribs. Shifting his weight so that he was still under Gladio's arm, Prompto ended up with his face inches from the tattooed birds face on Gladio's chest.

Gladio smelled good. Like leather, steel, and whisky.

The big guy had always been known to be a sprawling sleeper and the occasional cuddler, but Prompto had never been more thankful for the shields odd habit.

"Can't sleep?" Gladio hummed from above him.

Prompto lifted his head slightly so he was facing him. "Yeah. It's just… This place has a lot of memories. Ya know?"

Gladio nodded. "Keep thinking you're gonna reach out and Iggy'll be lying stiff as a board, or Noct tangled in his half-zipped sleeping bag?"

Prompto let out a bittersweet laugh. "Yeah."

Gladio mussed his hair. "You'd always end up sleeping like a capital 'H' at some point on hot nights. Your head would be on someone's leg and a foot would inevitably find a face."

"Yeah well, least I don't snore. Iggy ended up investing in some earplugs after a while. Maybe we should get him some noise canceling headphones next chance we get. Lestallum can't be easy to sleep in for him."

The hand that was mussing Prompto's hair slid down to the side of his face. A calloused thumb brushing his cheek and ghosting down to the edge of his lips. Prompto's heart rate increased again, wondering what was happening. He looked back up at Gladio, realizing that his gaze lingered on the larger man's lips longer than his eyes.

He wasn't completely sure when they'd kissed, but the next thing he knew they just were. It started fairly chaste and lazy, like floating down a river. It was Gladio who first darted a tongue out and requested permission that Prompto willingly gave. After that hands began to roam and shirts were pushed up to allow more skin to skin contact. The growing need between the two of them was apparent as they rubbed against each other through the cotton of their boxers.

It was Prompto who took the initiative and slid his hands down between them, pulling down the elastic far enough to free the flesh beneath and stroking Gladio's girth liberally while grinding into it with his own. Gladio growled into his mouth when he twisted his wrist toward the head, so he did it again, giving the shield's lip a light bite as he did.

Strong hands slid down the back of his boxers and grabbed pale orbs of flesh and squeezing just hard enough to send another bolt of pleasure to Prompto's own cock.

"Do you have any supplies?" Gladio whispered hoarsely into Prompto's ear as he thrust up into his hand.

"In my pack. It's in Cindy's office above the garage."

Gladio groaned.

"Don't worry about it," Prompto said, "Let me take care of you." He released Gladio's flesh and pushed his hip so that he was on his back and began to slide down the mattress so that he was between the shields legs.

"Prompto, you don't have to."

Hooking his fingers in the dark fabric he pulled them down as far as Gladio's thighs, freeing his flesh fully. It was as impressive as he'd imagined it would be as he weighed it in his palm. "But I want to," was all he said before dipping his head down and running the flat of his tongue from base to tip, earning a moan from the larger man. He repeated the process until he felt he'd tortured Gladio enough and wrapped his lips around the tip, looking up at the expression he earned as he did.

Fingers tangled in his hair and for a moment Prompto braced himself for the usual force that accompanied the motion, but only light encouragement came. Gladio was clearly restraining himself as Prompto worked slowly, going a little further down with every bob of his head. "Fuck. Prom, you're so good at that."

Prompto just hummed in response and continued.

When he managed to brush curled hair with the tip of his nose he could go no further. Gladio's thighs were trembling and he could feel the telltale twitch in his mouth of the coming orgasm. Normally this was where he would snag the mark's weapon and restrain them when they were most vulnerable, but instead he pulled away, leaving a sloppy string of saliva between them in his wake.

Taking an instant to be selfish he kicked off his own boxers and straddled the powerful thighs beneath him before using both hands to wrap around their members together. The ample saliva provided more than enough lubrication as he thrust up into his own hands, jerking them both together as he did.

Watching Gladio come undone was not a sight Prompto thought he would ever be graced with seeing, and the view of the shield trembling beneath him pushed him over the edge with only a few quick strokes of his hands. His orgasm adding to the lubrication as he increased speed.

Gladio grabbed his thighs hard enough to surely leave bruises and thrust up to meet him. "Prompto, I'm…" was all the warning he got before Gladio clenched in on himself and shot hot white ribbons all over his hands, a good portion of it landing on his own abs between them.

The two of them paused a moment to catch their breath before contemplating how to clean up the mess between them. Prompto scooted away and turned, disappearing to the other end of the caravan before reemerging with a t-shirt that belonged to neither of them. "I don't think one of the Tusk Brothers want this back anyway, right?" Prompto said, wiping his hands and tossing it to Gladio to clean himself.

Once they were both as clean as they were going to get they shed their shirts and socks (which somehow remained on during the whole event) and tossed them to the side, curling up with one another beneath the small wool blanket.

The fabric itched against bare skin, but for Prompto at least, it was as comfortable as he'd been in years.

~X~X~X

Okay I know that was a long chapter for just some oral and a hand job. But this is a slow-ish-burn fic. Remember? More to come I promise.

Thanks to Goldslactuar for the brainstorming session again. You're always fun to worth

*Yes that was a shout out to the art by Memoxcrom on Tumblr. It poked my muse just right :)

Please leave comments for what you liked/disliked/would like to see in coming chapters. These comments and kudos feed my dark little writers soul. Don't let me starve!


	4. Chapter 4

DEVIATION OF FATE

CHAPTER 4

~3 years~

Double checking his phone, Ignis tried his best not to let himself become too concerned with the caravan's tardiness. Standing atop the makeshift wall surrounding the city he gazes out onto the only approaching road and waits, idly fidgeting with his pen and clipboard.

It wasn't as easy to dictate how long it would take vehicles to go from place to place as it once was. Not with roads in constant disrepair, the trucks breaking down, and all sort of other hazards to contend with to say the least. Still, Devon usually called him when they were running excessively late.

Devon had been his on-again-off-again lover for nearly two years. Their meeting hadn't been intentional or even welcome initially.

At the time of their meeting it had been a little over a year since Noctis had left them for the crystal. Ignis was picking up the last bag of coffee down at the trade post. He'd extended his hand to take it, when a young man reached out and snatched it before him.

Ignis turned toward him, prickling with indignant anger, ready to curtly tell him off when he got a good look at him and his voice seized in his throat. The young man was dressed casually in all black with an oversized sports team sweatshirt hanging off his shoulders. His hair was charcoal black and hung lazily around his blue-grey eyes. "Oh, sorry. Did you want this?" he'd asked.

Clearing his throat, Ignis stated that he did.

The other man made a sincerely apologetic face, double checking the back end of the shelf to see if there was another one, but there wasn't. "Sorry. Ummm…maybe another shipment will come in soon?"

Ignis sighed. The other man had gotten there first, so in all politeness it was his. He briefly wondered how far he could ration what was left in his pantry back home before he had to start switching to tea. He got a mild headache just thinking about it.

They both knew that the next shipment was going to be a while, if it was coming at all.

Putting on a polite smile, Ignis adjusted his glasses. "Well, be sure you guard that carefully. Small pleasures are rare these days. I hope you enjoy it." He turned to leave when the man had reached out and caught the back of his arm.

"Wait. How about we split it."

"Oh, well that's very courteous of-"

"Under one condition," he'd said. "You share a pot of it with me first. What do you say?"

Ignis swallowed hard. It wasn't that the man was coming on to him (at least politely), but the fact that this stranger looked so very much like Prince Noctis was what made him hesitate. Sure, his skin tone was different, his voice was deeper, and his eyes weren't quite the right color, but he could pass as a worthy doppelganger.

Part of Ignis felt guilty for even considering it. He'd spent the better part of his life in service to the prince, and now he was staring at what summed up to be a physical replacement. His mind was going over the ethics so long that the young man had leaned in and waved his hands to snap Ignis out of it. "Is that a no?" He'd said, sounding disappointed.

Ignis stammered. "No… I mean yes. I mean… No, it wasn't a no. I…" He huffed at his own verbal stumbles. "Yes, I will have some coffee with you." He extended a hand. "Ignis."

The young man returned the firm hand shake. "Devon."

It started out as just a date at Devon's flat. Casual, warm, nothing physical. They'd talked for hours about everything and nothing. About what Ignis used to do in the Citadel and what Devon was currently up to running supplies with the Glaives. He'd once been a professional waiter, of all things, but once the world started falling apart it was tough to find work in his field. So he picked up a polearm, a gun, and hopped a truck with the next outgoing caravan and the rest was history.

They'd done the traditional three dates before they'd slept together. After that they spent what time they could together between supply runs and Ignis' work with the government and Sania. Never once had they really put a title on what they were. They'd tossed around the phrase friends-with-benefits and then lovers later on, but neither of them had ever used the term 'boyfriend'. Even then it really didn't seem like the proper word, but still, it was something, and Ignis wanted to talk to Devon when he got back from the current run to make it official.

Finally, Ignis saw a few sets of headlights coming up the winding path to the city. Pulling up his binoculars he scans the three vehicles before finding one who's left headlight flickers. It's definitely the truck Devon departed on. He can't contain his sigh of relief as they pass into the tunnel and out of sight in their approach. "Ready the gate," he calls down to the guards below.

A few moments later the three trucks were driving under the portcullis before it closed loudly behind them. Trying his best not to appear too eager he went to the first car to collect their inventory list, then the second, when he got to the third truck Monica stepped out of the driver's seat with a grim look on her face. "Everything alright?" he asked her, a heavy stone already settling in his stomach.

She just shook her head and took the clipboard from Ignis, handing it off to another driver to finish the inventory. Ignis saw blood smeared around the edges of her fingernails and sleeves. Taking him by the shoulder she guided him away from the trucks. "Ignis… I'm so sorry."

Ignis tried and failed to swallow past the lump in his throat. "What happened?"

"We were down by the Maidenwater and didn't notice the sea devils until they were on top of us. We managed to take out three of them, but there were so many of them. The Alpha came after our trucks and Devon managed to take it out with his spear, but…" She reached into her pocket and slipped something metallic into Ignis' hands. "I'm so, so sorry."

Standing there paralyzed for what felt like an eternity, Ignis managed to look down and open his hand, revealing bloodied dog tags with the name Devon Valentine stamped into them.

He didn't remember saying anything to Monica after that, nor the trip back up to the apartment. Ignis wasn't even fully aware where he was until he found himself in the bathroom washing the dried blood off his hands from the tags. He washed those too before hanging them up on the edge of the mirror before turning and heading back to the kitchen. It was roughly dinner time anyway.

Taking the anak steak out of the refrigerator, he unwrapped it and put it on the broiler pan before seasoning it with salt and pepper and preheating the oven. Retrieving the potatoes and onions from the pantry he reminded himself that they needed more garlic powder next time he got a chance to go shopping for it. He peeled and chopped the potatoes before putting them into a pot of water and placing it on the oven.

Turning the dial to light the stove the ignition clicked and clicked and clicked, but no flame came. Crouching down Ignis looked closer before trying another burner and another. Opening the oven and reaching in he found it as cold and still as the rest of the room.

The propane tank for the building must have run out again.

Ignis stood up, hands on the counter on either side of the steak, staring at it. He could put it in the fridge and save it for later, but who knows when the gas would come back on. If he froze it again it would damage the cellular structure and it wouldn't be able to hold flavor and juice as well. Besides, he'd already seasoned it and…and…

Picking up the broiler pan in one hand he hurled it across the room. The pan dented the sheetrock as the steak hit the wall with a wet slap and slid down behind the television. He threw the pot of potatoes next, dousing the floor and scattering the sliced tubers everywhere.

Running his arm along the length of the countertop he cleared it of the vase holding all their extra wooden spoons and spatulas. It shattered on the floor scattering glass and utensils everywhere. The salt and pepper shakers were next, though both managed to survive the fall.

Next was the metal kettle, full of water, hurled at the apartment door and denting both.

The cutting board and knife were last. Whipped like a discus and missing the far window by an inch.

Lacking anything else to destroy Ignis briefly considered opening the cabinets and shattering their contents too, but he suddenly realized he was bleeding. A long gash ran the length of his right palm, dripping red all over the counter and floor.

Reflexively he ran the water in the sink on cold, barely feeling the pain as he rinsed the flowing wound. It was deep and would probably need stitches.

Turning the water off he grabbed a dish cloth and wrapped it around his hand, clenching his fingers into a fist as the red spread throughout the white fabric.

Emotionally exhausted, he leaned against the refrigerator and slid down it's length until he sat on the linoleum floor. There, he began to sob.

Two days later, Gladio and Prompto arrived in Lestallum.

Gladio had gotten a voice mail from Monica instead of a text, which was an indicator something bad had happened already. She filled them in on what had happened with Devon and how dead-eyed Ignis was when she broke the news to him. The lack of emotion he showed concerned her, especially since she knew he was going back to the apartment alone.

He'd called Prompto as soon as he hung up with Monica. Unfortunately, both of them were pretty far away from the city when they got the news. Prompto was out near Hammerhead and Gladio was in Cape Caem.

Gladio took the risk and took a chocobo alone, resting more for the bird's sake than his own before continuing through the darkness. Weighing his options, between thieves on the roads or daemons in the woods, he opted for the woods and took a more direct route. Thankfully the Six were with him and he only ran into a few troubling fauna and a pair of lower level flan on the way.

Prompto's motorcycle was being repaired after being swiped by a red giants sword the previous week, so the gunslinger had just stuck his thumb out to the next west bound truck and kept his fingers crossed that he was among reputable company.

The Astrals must have been with them (for a change) as they arrived at the main gate to Lestallum within minutes of each other.

"Gladio, hold up," Prompto called as he caught up with him on the street to their apartment. He patted the larger man on the back when he reached him. "Hey, glad you made it safe."

"You too."

"Any new news?"

"No, I was just about to head up." Gladio swallowed and unlocked the heavy exterior door, letting them both in. "I'm glad you're here. Other than comforting Iris I'm not very good at this."

The blonde just nodded, lacking anything else to say. Ignis was always the one so put together between the four of them, but now that _he_ needed _them_ it seemed almost backwards.

By the time they reached their floor it was clear that something was wrong. The worn carpet in the hallway just outside their apartment was soaked, squelching beneath their feet when they stepped on it. That combined with the smell of rotting flesh turned them both on high alert. Fumbling with his keys, Gladio managed to get the door open and they both froze.

The apartment was covered in broken glass and the stench of rot permeated every corner. There was blood all over the counter and the floor of the kitchenette.

"Ignis!" Prompto called out, but there was no answer. He dashed to the bathroom first and threw open the door, praying to the gods he didn't find the strategist in the tub. He let out a sigh of relief when he found the room empty.

Gladio made his way to the bedroom and threw open the door. The blinds were drawn, shielding any exterior light, but he could make out the faint outline of a body swaddled in the blankets. He took a few cautious steps toward the bed, afraid at what he might find. "Ignis?"

There was a shift and Ignis pulled the blankets further over his head. Gladio let out a sigh of relief that there was at least movement. He reached out and rubbed Ignis' back through the comforter. "Hey, Iggy… You alright?" As soon as he asked it he kicked himself. Of course he wasn't alright.

Ignis didn't respond. He just curled into a tighter ball.

"Well… Prom and I are here for you. We're gonna clean up. Can we get you anything?"

Ignis cleared his throat. "I could use some water."

Gladio just looked over his shoulder, but Prompto was already on it. "There was blood everywhere. Are you hurt?"

Ignis rolled over to face him and extended his arm from his cocoon. His hand was wrapped in gauze and thankfully smelled of ointment instead of the rot from the main room. "I was out of potions and couldn't…I couldn't focus enough for a spell."

Now that was saying something. Ignis could use magic almost as easily as he could breathe. This was bad.

Gladio was never good at magic except basic pick-up boosts of healing when in the field while they were in the heat of battle, but hopefully he could at least do this. Closing Ignis' hand with his own he focused and felt the tingle of the kings magic flow lightly through his fingers for a moment. When he was done he unwrapped the gauze and was glad to see only a small scab running the length of the slice. It would leave a scar, but at least it wouldn't get infected.

Prompto brought in the water and put it down on the end table. "I'm gonna start cleaning up. I think I found what was making the smell."

"I'll help." Gladio squeezed Ignis' injured hand lightly and was happy to get a faint squeeze in return. "We'll leave you alone, but we're not going anywhere. Shout if you need anything."

Leaving the bedroom with the door cracked they started cleaning up. Sweeping up the glass they piled it into the ruined area rug along with the soggy potatoes and rotten steak that they scraped off the floor behind the television. After clearing most of the floor they gave it a thorough vacuum and scrub to be sure they got as much glass and food as they could. Prompto wiped the blood from the steak off the wall and made a mental note to get some paint to cover the brown streak on the plaster.

It took opening all the windows and half a bottle of cleaning agent to get the smell out of the small apartment.

Gladio inspected the contents of the fridge and pantry, making a list of what they needed. "Hey, Prom. Could you keep an eye on Iggy for a little bit? I'm gonna run down to the trading post and see what I can get for food."

"Alright… I'm gonna try and whip up something. I'm starved."

"Same. Be back soon," he said before closing the door.

Three days passed and Ignis barely got out of bed other than to use the bathroom. Gladio and Prompto kept replenishing his glass of water on the end table and bringing him small plates of food or soup. Sometimes the plate was as they'd left it when they checked on him, hours later. Sometimes there was a spoonful of rice or a bite taken out of a slice of toast, but not much more.

Ignis awoke on the fourth day, his eyes still puffy and raw from crying, to the sound of a pan and sizzling. He rolled himself out of bed, not bothering to put on his glasses as he padded his way to the kitchen.

Prompto was at the stove making something that might have been an omelet in a different life, but Ignis could already smell it burning. Looking over his shoulder, Prompto gave him a cautious smile. "Hey, Iggy. Just making breakfast. Can I get you anything?"

Ignis made his way into the small kitchen and cringed when he looked down at the contents of the pan. "Prompto… you know you're not supposed to use metal utensils in a non-stick pan. Correct?"

Prompto bit his lip before looking guiltily at the metal spatula and back down to the destroyed enamel of the once black pan. "Oh… that explains a bit."

Ignis reached over and turned off the range before dumping the eggs into the trash and put the pan in the sink to soak. He'd probably have to throw it out later.

Part of him wanted to snap at the younger man. Eggs and good cooking hardware were becoming precious commodities in the world as it is, but remembering his own tantrum from a few days ago he withheld his comment about wasting food. He was as guilty as any and they were only trying to help.

Looking up he noticed the hurt expression Prompto was trying to hide. He did, after all, just throw out the food he was making. "Apologies for… That was rude of me."

"A little. Yeah." Prompto said, but smiled. "But we can all get a little snippy sometimes. You have good reason."

Ignis nodded, leaning back onto the counter. "Where's Gladio?"

"Buying a new broiler pan. I'll text him to get a frying pan too, if he can find one."

"Thank you."

There was a long silence between the two of them. It had been months since either Prompto or Gladio had stayed at the apartment, and now that the two of them were there and Devon wasn't it felt…awkward. Ignis knew it shouldn't, but it did.

"Tell you what," Prompto said, breaking the silence. "When Gladio gets back we'll order some food from the vendor down the block and when you're feeling up to it you can show me how to cook a proper egg or whatever else you feel like eating. Unless you'd rather eat Gladio's noodles or burnt toast for the rest of the week."

Something light flickered inside Ignis at the thought of teaching someone how to cook. To teach anyone _anything_ again. Prompto beamed at him with a smile that made him remember what it felt like to feel the sun on his face. He gave a small smile. "That sounds like a fine idea."

"There's our Iggy. I knew you were in there somewhere." Prompto's smile broadened before he stood on his toes and gave Ignis a light kiss on the forehead. Ignis didn't really have time to process the unexpected affection before Prompto was making his way across the apartment to the bathroom. "But first thing's first. I'm running you a bath. Where do you keep the good soap?"

Rubbing his eyes, Ignis groaned. "Prompto, a bath really isn't necessary. Besides we should be conserving water and-"

"Iggy," Prompto said, poking his head out of the bathroom. The hot water was already running. "You haven't showered in days and, honestly, you _stink_. You are taking a bath."

Frowning, Ignis pulled up his shirt to his nose, making a face when his own odor hit him. He did smell rather ripe.

"Yeah, I told you." Prompto smirked. "So, where's the good soap? The one with the little lavender bits in it."

Wondering if this was what he sounded like years ago, nagging at Noctis to eat his vegetables, Ignis sighed. If they were here to take care of him, he might as well let them take care of him. "The soaps under the sink."

~X~X~X

Gods, I'm so sorry Iggy. Why am I torturing my boys so? This all has a point to it, I promise.

Comments are always appreciated. Anything you guys liked or disliked? What would you like to see in future chapters? Let me know.

Also, happy 2018 everyone!


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